San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-12-27

| ley started, ana drew QUICK DfeAtn OF re
lief-"because did not love him." valeri,
went on, fully believing that she was pilinl
up for herself terrible wrath for the NOR
row. "Oh, aunt Constance, know have
been wrong, but / did not think he really
cared for me. l begged him to forgive me
but could not marry him. | would die
soonerl People will call me false-a jilt-
then they must know l told you thai
l loved the world, and couldn't marry
Louis because he was poor" il was the ole
terror OF being charged with another love
that made her say this-"but didn't know
what II would be to marry Aston Lawford.'
Mrs. Langley, sitting in an armchair op
posite, leaned her elbow on the arm, shad
ing her face with her hand and even wher
Valerie ceased speaking, - listener did
not move
The girl rose and stood before her aunt
clasping her little hands together, and
though she spoke falteringly, there wa:
not line Of irresolution in her face. Fra
| Rile STRIPPING though she was, her will was
set like wise; and the man or woman who
hoped TO make her yield her ground would
have been blind indeed.
| Aunt Constance" she said, 81 know
you will think me ungrateful, and you
thought it would be great thing for me
to be Aston Lawford's wife; but / cannot
obey you in this-whatever happens. can
| go back again to the country-to uncle
| Wills"
| "And marry Louis CharterisS" asked
Mrs. Langley, quietly, without looking up
| Valerie's lips opened for quick mo, nc
| not that" But In the instant she check
ed herself, for the thought flashed through
her brain like lightDi1R;-i..ySbe ,fhtfkss J
love him. If she discovers I do not. she
will say, You love someone elser"
She was silent.
Then Mrs. Langley dropped her hand
and rose.
LET us say no more about it tonight,
Valerie" she said. Tomorrow, perhaps,
or later, may speak to you. But Of this
l can assure you'll shall not send you back
into the country. Now, goodnight"
She kissed the girl affectionately, and
Valerie went up to her room with a feeling
of bewilderment
what could it mean" she asked her
self. Mrs Langley had promised not to
be angry with her tonight; but she did not
seem even much displeased, and she had
so set her heart on this marriage docs
she imagine, Valerie thought, that will
yieldf"
But for a time her brain felt dizzy and
confused, and she could not think distinct
ly. She was, however terribly excited,
and felt that sleep would be an impOssi-
bility So when Fanchon left her, she
wrapped dressing gown about her, and
sat down, leaning her thrObbing temples
on her hands.
Her thoughts were growing clearer now,
more defined. In the quiet of the night
they travelled to Abbot's Leigh, and saw
the death-chamber with its tall tapers, and
the soldier, stern and calm, in his silent
watch by the dead. Long time they dwelt
there, and then they came back to the ques-
ton that had perplexed her.
Had the shock of the terrible news from
Abbot's Leigh sOftened Constance Lang
ley's heart-for time at least. But that
connection of ideas was the flash of revel-
alton. The news from AbbOt's Leigh
Gerald's death made Max owner of all!
With the smOthered cry of a wounded
creature the girl fell on her knees, hiding
her face from the light in shame and an
guish.
Was this it?-that Aston Lawford was
to be cast aside for Max Beauregard?
The words, not understood at the time,
came back to Valerie, and beat upon her
brain with pitiless clearness:
"And Max Beauregard is lord of Abbot's
Leighr'
Yes, even in that dread moment, Con-
stance Langley, almost in the presence Of
death, thought OF the gain of that death,
and grasped the gold that fell from the stiff
ening fingers.
And he will think that |, too, schemed
to win him, In the very hour that l knew
he had wealth Oh, Heavenl he will think
even this of mer' Valerie moaned, the
burning tears forcing themselves through
her fingers. "Oh! how can bear it? what
shall l dor II could only die! He will
know that l refused Aston Lawford on the
very day-in the very hour-I knew HE
brother diedl What else can he think but
that am the base, wretched schemer !
seem to be' Why should he believe better
Of me after what he knows already? OH
the shame burns into my soul-that she
should want me to win him after all that
has passed-to win him, of all men on
earthr'
What could she seem, to Max Beaure-
CARDS high sense of honor, better than the
hapless creatures who sell their souls for
money! Only the Mayfair market is Ii.
censed by custom; and to the other market
custom gives no license, and no open re.
cognition.
II wonder" the girl whispered to her
self, drearily, when, hours later, she lay,
too utterly exhausted by the tempest Of
passion that had shaken her, to even feel
strongly, II wonder If he will ever know
that was true and faithful, and loved
him from the first, just because 1 loved
himt Oh! 1t would have been better-far,
far better-if had never known himp
CHAPTER XXXL-FOR HIGHER QUARRY.
The sudden death of Gerald Beauregard
was, naturally, the theme Of conversation
in West-end clubs and drawing-rooms the
following day; but he, personally, scarcely
left gap in society; he was not often in
London, and when he was it was only for
a short time, and he went out very little;
his tastes were for the country, nor had he
the brilliant qualities which make a man
generally popular in London circles.
The event which so abruptly cut off Ger
aid from among the living was felt rather
in its relation to the well and fav-
orite younger brother than as loss.
Already ambitious matrons and maidens
began to speculate on the chances Of secur-
ing Colonel Beauregard, whose laurels
were now SO richly gilded. At the clubs,
and among army men generally, conven-
tional sigh for poor Gerald Beauregard"
tal l%,,